


Sometimes We Just Have to Hold on to What We Know

by daydreamlouis



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 1970's, Harry/ofc at some points, M/M, Younger Louis, circus AU, harry kind of sucks in the beginning, minor character injury but nothing explicit, oh this is a WIP
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-25 06:00:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30084549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daydreamlouis/pseuds/daydreamlouis
Summary: "I don't think I want to be here anymore," Louis whispered to Harry, fingering a new rip into the blue jeans that he threw on after the show, tearing into the seam."You don't have to stay if you don't want to, no one's making you do anything you don't want to do," Harry feels unsure as he says the words, not knowing if there was actually any truth behind what he was saying."Sometimes it doesn't feel that way."Or the one where Louis is a circus performer born into the world of entertainment and Harry has a friend of a friend who got him a job that he never really wanted.A 1970's Circus AU
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Kudos: 1





	1. Prologue

_After a tragic moment during a routine performance, Bebe Rexha of Tomlinson Rings, age 26, fell from her aerial silks and severely damaged her spinal cord. It has been reported that she cannot walk and is currently still in the hospital._

_So what does this mean for the world-famous show? Representatives of Niall Horan confirmed this morning that the Irish aerialist will fill Rexha’s spot in the show until future notice. This is great news for the freelance performer, as he has been looking for a new gig after finishing up his last show at the Tomlinson’s number one competitor’s circus, Azoff’s Big Top Circus._

_Jo and Mark Tomlinson seem to be taking the change in stride following the accident and have not yet cancelled any of the upcoming shows in the North American Tour, all of which will still feature fan favorites such as Liam Payne, the audience’s favorite strong man, and Louis Tomlinson, the Ringmaster’s son and the previous partner of Rexha._

_How will young Tomlinson handle the newest addition to their company? Will he take it well, or will he try and reclaim his throne?_


	2. Chapter One

Smoke from an old cigarette mixes with the smell of desperation and dried come. Harry knows he should get up and tell whatever girl he ended up bringing home with him to leave before the actual owner of the flat shows up, but he had no real desire to face reality again.

He huffs in frustration when the woman’s blonde hair scratches the sensitive part of his bare upper arm and jerks sharply, muttering an apology out of reflex when she begins to stir. 

He watches her for another moment before he decides he really needs her to get the fuck up, this isn’t his couch, the real owners of the flat are going to be here soon, they said no more sex on the couch.

He stops thinking and takes a deep breath. _Relax_.

He nudges her shoulder with his large palm, reaching the other hand down to the floor to pick up a pair of cotton underwear that were stubbornly out of his reach under the couch. Once he finally looped his finger through a leg hole, he silently celebrated and shook the girl’s shoulder a little bit harder, because _why the fuck isn’t she waking up?_

“Please get the fuck up,” he begged. He is never normally this pushy with anyone he brings home, but he knew Zayn and Niall would be back any minute based on their normal pattern of coming and going in the early mornings. “Did I fucking kill you or something?”

The girl, Harry can barely remember actually having sex, let alone the name of the random blonde he convinced to go back home (home being the couch of a friend of a friend, and his boss if he wanted to get technical) with him, shot up quickly and startled Harry who jumped to his feet.

“Damn,” she mumbled, rubbing her fists against her eyes. “When did we come back here? What time is it?” 

Harry could barely keep up. He pulled his hair from his face and took a deep breath, rolling his shoulders to try and relieve some of the built up tension. _Relax._

“Um,” he began, “It’s around seven in the morning. I don’t know when we came back here. Sorry to be that guy, but you really have to go before my roommates get back.” Harry felt a blush rise on his cheeks as he stuttered his way through his explanation, the girl’s eyes staring him down all the while. 

“Oh, yeah, that’s fine. Um, thanks? See you soon? I don’t know.” _Great_ , he thought. The last thing he needed right now was some small talk with a person he wanted to _leave, leave, leave_ before the real flat owners came back.

He threw out a forced smile and a half hearted chuckle before pulling his white briefs on and adjusting himself before turning to go to the bathroom. He heard a sigh and some shuffling as he clicked the lock.

Harry didn’t feel like a mean person most of the time. He holds the door open for people when entering and exiting shops, he always remembers his manners, and one time back in university he even helped walk an old lady through the seedier part of town before he traded his last twenty dollar bill for whatever grass his dealer had on hand.

That being said, he knew he had to get whoever that blonde was out of the flat before Zayn and Niall showed up and ripped him a new asshole. One was fine, thank you very much. 

Harry kind of feels irresponsible and like a borderline asshole. That feeling is one that never really leaves him these days, especially since he graduated college with nothing to his name but a degree in public relations and a minor sex addiction. It only got worse when he wasted the better part of his twenties doing absolutely nothing with his life and coming away from it with an _unused_ degree in public relations, a moderate sex addiction, and a part time job as a dish washer where he made crumbs compared to his old friends currently made.

Harry finally hears the telltale click of the front door telling him the blonde- _Deborah, Donna?-_ has finally left and he was free to go back out to clean up the mess that he made. As per usual. He glanced left to right around the room to make sure she was definitely gone before he grabbed his soiled outfit and the used condom off the ground.

When he finally finished with his rushed cleaning and opened a window, he took a seat on his temporary bed and pulled out a brown leather journal from a stack off of the coffee table before him. It held the contact information of everyone he needed to make last minute before Zayn, Niall, and him joined the spectacular Tomlinson Rings for the remainder of their world tour.

Harry couldn’t be less excited.

He feels a little guilty for his negative thoughts on the situation, but he can't picture anything worse than spending the better part of a year in America of all places, having nothing to do besides watching circus freaks perform like a group of trained monkeys and having no friends besides the one he’s traveling with - Zayn and Niall.

After he met Zayn at a bar, and subsequently Zayn’s best friend and aerial artist extraordinaire Niall, he not only found immediate friendship, but a permanent couch to sleep on every night and a job as Niall’s manager. He felt good putting his previously useless degree to work, but he knew even before he started finding the performer work that it was something that he would never enjoy.

Harry always thought he was meant for greater things.

As a child, he was told by his parents and school teachers alike that he would amount to more than anyone in his little town of Holmes Chapel ever could, and that’s why he even thought he was fit for London to begin with. Almost immediately after arriving in the city and seeing just how different his old, picturesque village was compared to the monstrosity of London, he knew he made a mistake. 

But Harry Styles was not a quitter. He didn’t quit London and he sure as hell would not quit on the only people he had truly come to like in nine years after he decided to move for university. He liked to think of his current life (and the several years that he spent on actual rock bottom) as stepping stones to a life that he would one day love. Until then, he would suffer.

Opening up the journal to the page that reads “Call Mark??” he jots down a few things he knows he needs to confirm- _Will there be enough room for not only Niall, but his two companions? Will the cost of meals also be included in that?_ He writes down _will I finally lose my sanity_ next to a phone number he doesn’t remember the owner of and sets the journal back down, already stressed from the minimal work he put in.

Then finally, finally, he hears the lock click and the subtle sound of chatter beyond the thick wood door that led out to the hallway. “You know, I really do think that me and him will get along fine. If anything, you’re the one that’s always causing problems everywhere we go.”

Niall’s voice is a mix of exasperated and fond as he speaks to his best friend, Zayn Malik. They had been best friends long before Harry had met them two years prior. They were attached at the hip, it seemed, and did most things together.

“And I’m always thinking to myself- Niall, why do you let some unemployed man cause problems everywhere you go? And then I remember that I’m stuck with your cunt arse no matter what I do, huh?” Niall keeps playfully insulting Zayn as the duo stepped through the threshold, shoving at each other and giggling with each push.  
  


“Yeah, well what about you? Because if I remember correctly, and I know I do, you were the one who told Jeff that ‘foof’ meant ‘pussy’ and got us kicked out of the entire fucking circus!” Zayn sits down next to Harry, who scoots over to make room for his two friends.

“Wait, why would that get you kicked out?” Harry asks. He always has to ask for backstories because the other two seem to always know exactly what is being spoken about. Harry swears he’s seen them have full conversations without speaking, just full on communicating with their eyes.

“Harry, you git,” Niall says, soft but firm. “Jeff is the son of Irving, the owner of the shittiest circus ever, Azoff’s Big Top Circus. Like, who the fuck even names their company that? Fucking lame. Anyway, everyone called Jeff ‘foof’ as some kind of purehearted nickname, and I had just met him, so I didn’t know any better-”  
  


Zayn cuts him off by saying, “so you told him foof was another name for a vagina. Yeah, yeah. But remember when you told him he was the worst Ringmaster you had ever seen? Like immediately after you called him a vagina?”

Niall scoffs, punching Zayn hard on the shoulder. Harry looks between the two and notices a newspaper in the blond’s hand. “What’s that?”

“Oh, it’s the paper.”

“No shit, what are you doing with it? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you read before, let alone the paper,” Harry playfully snatches the paper from Niall and reads the front page. “Hey, you made front page!”

“Yeah, but what’s the point when all anyone’s talking about is Louis Tomlinson this, Louis Tomlinson that. Niall’s going to be the fucking star, this kid is gonna be nothing after people see Ni perform,” Zayn cuts in, suddenly extremely defensive of the blond.

“Nah, don’t think like that, Zee. This kid’s apparently been doing this since he was in the fucking womb. From what I’ve heard, he’s a nice kid.” Niall takes the stubbed out cigarette stub from the ashtray on the table and relights it, swatting away Zayn’s hand when he tries to put it out.

“Well I, for one, don’t think it’s right that I did all that work marketing you just for some kid to steal your spotlight.” Harry speaks in a joking manner, but deep down, he does think there’s some truth behind it. He knows he’s made for greater things, and for his efforts to be wasted because of some child that got his fame from nepotism is the last thing he wants.

Niall rolls his eyes, sucking on the end of the cigarette, trying to get the last pull. “Haz, love you man, but no fucking shit is this kid going to be better than me. I’ve heard that he met the fucking Queen. All I’ve done is take the place of some girl who fell off her silks.” As he says it, he gets up and walks towards his bedroom. “Well lads, I’ve had a long night. See you when it’s time to go.”

Harry huffs and crosses his legs, falling back onto the couch. Zayn looks at him and then back to the ashtray. “You know, Niall will never say it, but he really is thankful you got him the job. For a second he thought no one would ever hire him again. Should have known the rivals would want him, huh?” Zayn softly elbows Harry, sensing that the older man was in some kind of foul mood.

“Huh, yeah. Anyway, I’m gonna head out for a bit before we have to go. I’ve got a few phone calls to make, gonna go to my usual spot. See you in a few hours, Zee.” With that, Harry got up and made a move for the front door, quickly pulling on his shoes and leaving.

As he walked down the street towards the only friend he had that owned a telephone, he thought over what his life would bring on the road. Sex, new sights, and hopefully some excitement. He promised himself that if any job opportunities came up in America he would take them immediately, even if it was just a ‘help wanted’ sign at a diner. He was tired of hating his life and was ready to get new opportunities, whatever that may be.

Harry’s life has been miserable for years, and he finally wants to do something to change it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the first fic I've ever written so if anyone actually reads this and has any suggestions let me know. I know this isn't the best but I hope (maybe) that as time goes on it gets better


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